Erland's POV

"Really brother? That is your big move?...." he chuckled, pushing his queen forward to hold me at a fork.

"...Well, looks like someone has met his match." he smiles, the light reflecting on his golden tooth as he tips the clock onto his side.

I grinned mentally at his amateur move. I have 2 minutes left on the clock. I pushed my pawn forward and tipped the clock back onto my side.

His face morphs from euphoria to abject horror as soon as he realizes that I held him at check. I just sat back and crossed my legs, reaching for a glass of iced Whiskey. Taking a sip, I swished it around my mouth to soak in its sour burn.

"1 minute left, brother." I smirked, eyeing the board. He tries to keep his composure and moves his pawn forward as a feeble attempt of defense.

Moving my rook to the back rank I hit my side of the clock, sealing the fate of the game.

"Back Rank Mate."

"That's not possible." He frowns as the clocks beep. I just destroyed him.

I down the rest of my whiskey, pushing back my glasses up my nose.

"I can't believe you just flagged me like that!" he motioned looking at me incredulously.

"Hand over the deed here, Davian." I simply state, checking my watch. We're running late for the opening of the newest branch of our bar chain - Darby Abbey- which means- A beautiful place of refreshment where deer come. He just lost its deed to me.

He motions for his secretary to bring it forward.

"You know, you have just arrived, what makes you think you can remain the owner of that Abbey?"

"What do you mean?"

"I could win it back from you in the near future." He doesn't understand that I am a Grandmaster, and unless he plays some other game, he will never win.

I just chuckled. "When Father comes to know he will swallow a pint through his arse until his whiskers twitch."

He bursts out laughing. "...oh... oh... God just picturing itt..." he says, wiping his tears.

It is true. Our Father, which art in London, Wolfollwed be his name, will not be pleased. He wasn't pleased when I gave up the Car Dealership to Eric, our younger brother, and took up the Formal Wear brand 'Rolf-Langley Fashion House', of which my mother is currently the Head of Couture, instead. It was only so that I could go solo travelling around the world. My mom was supportive. But Father?

He wheezed and whinnied until he almost popped a nerve. Some say his yelling, was what caused the clouds to come together for the thunder-strom we had for the following weeks straight.

When he retired we all were quite glad. But the joy was short-lived when we realized his favorite son, Davian was succeeding him. He was Father's clone. Both of them used to have a sense of Perfectionism that irked most of us in the pack.

But all of a sudden, Davian snapped. Every rule and every protocol that was being followed religiously suddenly got booted out of his agendas.

The trademark event that forced me to cut my trip around the world short and return home was a Facetime with him. He actually used the phrase, 'you bitch' while reprimanding me and smiled...yes, SMILED to reveal his golden grill, when I told him I lost my luggage in Brunei and have to cut my trip short anyway. I realized then that things were not going good. Oh wait, that and Mum's consistent nagging.

" You know that you have address the party, right?"

"God no, you own the establishment now, you have to.." he says, taking a huge sip of his liquor.

"You know that no one will listen to me. Our guests tonight will be extremely high-tier. Moreover I haven't even seen sunset since I came here."

"Alright, brother. As you wish." 

I have just returned from Brunei not even 4 hours ago. I had just come to meet Davian and have a chat to hear about the pack dealings and his welfare, when he had dropped the Opening Ceremony bomb.

"Speaking of girls..." I look at him sideways.

"We were not..." He mutters shaking his head and looking away.

"...How is it coming with your Roxanne..." I winked.

"We are fairly well-known in the High Society of London. Tardiness of the host is considered quite unfashionable. Let's get going." he states calmly, blatantly evading the discussion of his sad love life.

"We are getting late let's go." He declares getting up to gesture for the waiter.

"Hold on," I held him in place, aren't you forgetting something. I nodded towards the deed on the table. Did he think I forgot about that?

"Oh right, sorry." he coughed. I am enjoying his discomfort. "Take the deed now, but don't come running to me when you fall on your face along with it."

I roll my eyes. "Don't you worry all that much, brother, Even if that were to happen, I shan't bother you with such trivial matters."

"I give you a month, just you see."

I tell the valet to fetch our car.

*****

WE reach the Abbey after exactly a half-hour delay, thanks to traffic. "Success of this event will reflect on the success of the bar as a whole." This makes me anxious. So far it is going by smoothly. The sight of all the guests in beautiful aristocratic clothes sobered me up pretty quickly.

I absolutely loathe the aristocrats. They think they are somehow better than others because of their lineage. Shouldn't the accomplishments one has achieved be the sole meter of their worth?

There go the pompous dicks with their starched collars and fancy shoes. I cannot complain as I myself am a part of the 'High Society'.

I spot the Beta among the guests. Harold Thorne. He is a good man who sets his priorities right all the time. Harold and Father were fellow Eton-graduates. His son, Derick is my dear friend. He is off in the Americas hustling.

I head over to greet him when suddenly a middle-aged man stops me with his hand on my arm. A good-looking redhead who looks quite American.

"Hello, sir. How are you doing?" he smiles politely and holds out his other hand to shake mine.

"Hello. I'm great. Do I know you? Mister..." I nod politely shaking his hand while simultaneously trying to put some distance between us.

"You may not remember me, sir. I'm an acquaintance of your father's. Just mention the name Boss he will know."

"Okay...?" I frowned. This man is not making much sense. I have to find my Mum to greet her as I haven't had a chance to chat with her since my flight.

"Anyway, Mr. Rolf. I need to ask of you a favor." he continues.

Alright. He's one of those. These kind of people aren't rare. They say something like this and expect a free suite upgrade and sometimes even a free suite itself.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Boss. You will have to speak to my father."

"I just wanted to tell you, the Night is come." He whispered the last part, just as Davian clinked his glass to propose the toast. Night is come? Of course, the night is come. Stating the obvious is not interesting enough to whisper. Typical wannabe Americans.

"Listen Mister, we'll continue talking about this after the toast." 

"Don't forget what I said." He stares deep into my eyes and slips away.

I turn around looking for a drink. This is going to be a feat. 

"First of all, I would like to thank..." Davian is giving his speech on the podium.

Mum is sitting with 2 other older matrons with their colorful purses and hats at a decorated table at the centre of the room. I snuck up behind her and placed a kiss on her head.

"Hello Mrs. Barnaby, Looking lovely in blue, pops out the color in your eyes..." I nodded to the smart woman on my mother's right.

"...and Mrs. Thorne, a vision in pink." I discreetly wink at the matron sitting at the left of mother. She blushes. I have to turn on my charm to 100 degrees if I were to come off unscathed from the full blast of Mum's interrogation.

From the 'Why didn't you call me's to the 'I was worried sick's to the 'Get me a chardonnay, son'...

Hold on. She just asked me to fetch her a glass of Chardonnay. She didn't even ask me how my trip was... I am surprised and I would be lying if I said I wasn't at least a tiny bit disappointed.

'Awww look at you all sad...' Ron sings.

'What happened? Baby crying because mommy don't love him anymore ?' he cooed mockingly.

'Shut up, Ron.'

My wolf always finds my perfectly reasonable attachment to my mother, emasculating for him. Its not like I don't find his presence dehumanizing.

I head over to the bar and order the drink. I feel a sharp pain at the back of my skull.

"No calls. No replies. Not even an email. Its like you want me to maim you."

I grinned at the voice. Ha, I am loved after all.

"What brings such a ravishing beauty such as yourself to a dump like this?" I bowed kissing her gloved hand, gesturing to the chandelier lit hall.

"Ravishing beauty indeed, are you referring to the watermelon I swallowed or my slowly melting face." she remarked rubbing her heavily pregnant belly.

"I would say more of a pumpkin, really." I replied as if deep in contemplation.

She smacked my head again.

"God, I missed you wench," I said hugging my dear friend.

"How far along?"

"32 weeks." She places my hand on her tummy, I feel the relentless kicks. I pull my hand back abruptly.

"Someone's feisty tonight. Just like her mother." Alice was such a sweet friend when I first met her. Association with Derick and the Thornes has transformed her to the mature young lady in front of me. She was a human when Derick met her in America.

"Oh, stop it, Lanny. Sarah was worried sick. It has been a year, man."

"It alarms me how familiar you have become with my mother." I say reaching for the glass of chardonnay for my mother.

"You know, I'm working for her now actually."

"Oh my God, really?? Since when?" Wow, this is brand new.

"Yes I am a Designer now."

"So, technically you work for me now."

"Funny how times change, right." She smiles wistfully. She was a manager in the white collar company, where I was doing my internship before she met Derick. In fact, that's how she met him. And now she is working for me, well technically my mother, but who looks at all that.

"Tell me about it." I smiled. 

************

some of the terms like flagging and fork that i used are chess terms.... flagging means losing the game on time and fork means a two way attack by bishop which make it look like a fork in the road...

the clock in the beginning is a chess clock used in serious gameplay to time the players...players hit them after finishing their turn

I will include the pic below..

i hope you enjoyed reading!x

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laters ppl!